Trapped by Time or Playing Catch Up
by naiad8
Summary: Cedric's apprentice just turned 15 when he helped her to close the Dark Gate. But the Cataclysm still tears their world apart, and leaves him trapped in time. The world goes mad and he can only watch as one girl fights to free him as she grows into a woman before his eyes.


Author's Notes

I'm going to hell for writing this.

Please, for the love of the gods, if you are a little kid, don't read this. Please?

I've been forced to watch too much toddler TV, and it's melted my brain. I see way too much shipping potential in inappropriate places. Every damn time this show comes on, this plot bunny eats away at the base of my brain like a bad earworm. Out out! Leave me alone!

Sofia's notes are in italics. Cedric's notes are in bold.

On with the show

**From the History of Enchancia, Volume VI:**

In the twenty-first year of the reign of Good King Roland II, the Third Fae War ripped the Tri- Kingdoms to shreds. The rogue fairy, Miss Nettle (also known as Sascha the Sorceress and the Great Betrayer), opened the Dark Gate, calling forth powers long banished from the land of Enchancia.

It was our Princess Sofia who had discovered the Great Betrayer's plot and attempted to stop it. Just fifteen at the time of the Cataclysm, Princess Sofia threw herself into the center of the Dark Gate, in an attempt to stop of flow of dark Fae from crossing into our world. Though only an apprentice to the Cedric the Wise, her magic slowed the invasion, aided by the Amulet of Avalor. Sofia's strength called to the Queen of Air and Darkness, Mab herself, who arrived at the Dark Gate and laughed in the face of Sofia's hopeless bravery.

Cedric the Wise strode into the Cave of the Dark Gate, and risked all to save his student. The Great Magic, the spell passed down through his family for millennia, had not been used since the closing of the Dark Gate in the Bleak Times. He tore Sofia from the grasp of a Redcap, saving her life. Cedric stood sure and strong in the face of the Queen of the Dark Fae, and wove the magic that closed the gate and sealed Mab and her minions once again in another world.

But Mab sent one last spell of vengeance through the last crack in the Gate, a spell meant to kill the Wise One. It was meant to age him to dust. But Sofia the Brave once again risked all and threw up a shield wrought with her very essence to protect her Sorcerer. Time was twisted, and Cedric slept, an enchantment keeping him asleep, unaging, for years. Without his aid, Enchancia had to deal with the onslaught of the escaped Dark Fae with the aid of its greatest sorcerer. Princess Sofia rose to the challenge, but not without pain and loss. And not without a plan.

Cedric knew he should be dead. When the Queen of Air and Darkness leveled a spell at your heart, you were about to die a very painful death. Especially if you'd just destroyed all her plans. He'd survived! He'd beaten Mab! He, Cedric the bumbler, Cedric the incompetent, Cedric the…well he had gotten better the last few years. But it would have been very satisfying to have his father, Goodwin the Great, around to see Cedric use a legendary spell, one of unmatched complexity and requiring untold power, to defeat the greatest threat this land ever faced! Ha Father, what do you think of your bumbling little boy now? Your boy who faced mortal peril to defeat a foe who made even you shake in your boots!"

But strangely enough, he wasn't dead. But he wasn't exactly alive either. Where was he? Bugger. In the midst of his daydreams about showing his father up, he'd somehow missed being magically transported to his own tower room. He was lying in his own bed, and he was in his night robe.

How had that happened? He didn't remember losing consciousness. He always could feel magic. Perhaps his powers had been completely sapped by Queen Mab? He shivered at the thought of a life without magic.

The light in the room flickered oddly, and there was not a soul there, not even Wormwood. Not even Sofia. Was she ok? Had she survived the redcap? What about all the other creatures that had come through – Enchancia was helpless against creatures of true evil? He needed some answers. Before he could try to sit up on the bed, a note on purple paper appeared in front of his face, held up by a wooden arm attached to his bedpost that had not been there even a second ago.

_Mr. Cedric, you are under a spell. A side affect of something I did to save you from Queen Mab. I'm so sorry. I promise I will fix it. If you can read this, please blink your eyes several times as fast as you can. –Sofia_

He blinked his eyes out of sheer confusion, before the actually instructions even filtered into his mind. But faster than he could comprehend, another note appeared.

_I'm so happy you can read these, Mr. Cedric! Everyone said you were in some kind of enchanted sleep, but I could see your eyes move really really slowly, so I think time is slowed down for you. I'm working on some ideas to speed you up again. I'm sorry but I have to look at your books without your permission. I've tried to teach myself as much as I can, but there's not much time to search. We spend a lot of time defending the village and castle from dark Fae. We need you._

He gasped in a breath, and before he was finished, something else was jotted at the bottom of the note.

_It's been 1 year since you closed the Dark Gate._

His eyes darted around the room, noting that as light flashed like lightning across the grey stone, some things were actually in constant movement. His bookshelf was constantly shifting, with books disappearing and reappearing almost faster than he could sense, and piles of new books began to appear on the floor. As he looked, a pallet of blankets appeared on the floor, and a body would flicker in and out of existence lying there – apparently asleep. His potions table shifted constantly, like pawns shuffling along a chess board.

He glanced back at the note, and there was another notation at the bottom.

_2 years_

_3 years_

The edges of the paper were frayed, and so were his wits. As he sat here like an idiot, with every minute he wasted, a year passed. A year in which his country was under attack, and his young, silly, naïve apprentice was left to take the burden of protecting the kingdom from magic attack.

Sofia was brilliant and sweet and annoying and far too trusting. She was the only one to show him any kindness since his mother died. She was far too good to fight a war, much less try to rescue a sorry wizard like himself. She would be eighteen by now. She was probably beautiful, as at fifteen she had already started to blossom into looks he found uncomfortably captivating. She should be going to tea parties and opening playgrounds and courting with princes, not fighting a war.

The note was ripped away, replaced with a scrap of yellowed paper. Apparently there was no more fine stationary to be had.

_Found something, will try tonight. It's been 4 years, and I miss you, Cedric. –Sofia_

The room filled with bright light, and for one brief second he could see her, standing at the foot of his bed. She was taller, more elegant, long hair bound in a tight braid. She wore trousers and a shirt – he couldn't catch much detail, mostly her lovely face and those vivid blue eyes shining at him filled with deep emotion he was terrified to name. Light streamed out from the Amulet of Avalor – one he'd long since given up trying to steal. He'd thought perhaps that when she was older, when she'd finished her apprenticeship with him – then he could take the amulet and take power, but then it just…ceased being that important. Teaching her was more interesting than plotting to take over the kingdom.

That damned amulet engulfed him in its purple glow and he reached out toward the source, wanting to touch his student – his friend, the girl who was turning into a woman in the blink of an eye.

But once again he was alone in his room, staring into empty space. He sat up on the bed, heaving a sigh before turning back to that wooden arm and looking for a piece of paper. There was a much longer letter this time, written in the firm hand of a woman.

_You are sitting up! You seem much faster now. It's only been a day and you are almost completely upright. I think my spell worked. I still have a long way to go to get you back into our timestream, but there's an army of hellhounds breeding in the Western Forest, and we are preparing to go to battle soon. I have left instructions with the remaining servants to continue to dust and wash your rooms as best they can. They know not to touch anything of your books or potions. I shall be back once we've convinced the hounds to move to new territory and end their attacks. I've left paper and pen on a table near the bed. If you've any thoughts on what might help or books that might exist that I have not yet found in the Kingdom, please write as quick as you can. – Miss you, Sofia_

A day was a few seconds? He was going to be trapped at 26 years old for the rest of eternity and watch the world crumble around him. Hellhounds? Sofia and James and Amber were out fighting Hellhounds? He had to stop this; he had to figure out how to break this spell!

He strode across the room, picking up his wand from a shelf. He tried to cast a simple spell to materialize a flower, but nothing happened. Magic eluded him in this state. He turned, reading the titles on the books on his overflowing shelves and on the floor as fast as he could. Out of the corner of his eye he could see flashes of moment, and he turned the images of people moving around the rooms, too fast for him to focus. The light was still flashing, but at a much slower rate, and he glanced out the window to see the sun rise and set over and over in the space of a few heartbeats. Each flash was the passing of days, lost days of his life! Who knows how many were dying in a battle he could have made a difference in! Would Sofia ever return?

He ran back to the table, picking up a pen to see another note set a top the blank piece he'd been about to write on.

_Princess Sofia was injured attempting to save her sister from an attack in the Western Woods. I'm afraid Princess Amber is dead, and the Kingdom is in mourning. Princess Sofia asked me to tell you that she will return to care for you as soon as possible. If you are able to, Mr. Cedric, please find a way to help our girl. She's taken too much on her own head, and my never be able to forgive herself for her sister's death. Enchancia needs you._

_-Baileywick_

In an instant, he made the decision to reveal something that might have him executed. His family had guarded books of forbidden magic for generations. He'd read about things that had streaked his hair white. Spells of power, rituals that could bring protection. Potions that could rain death and magic that could steal the soul. He stood up, sitting on a chair by the bed and bent to drag the table to follow, shocked when it appeared in place before he could sit down. Then, he set his pen to fly over the paper.

**Sofia, when you get better, under my bed, there's a trapdoor. You'll need a hair from my head, and the first spell I taught you when you turned thirteen. There are books there you will find nowhere else. Defend the country, Sofia. Don't worry about me. Ask questions and I will try to answer as fast**

He felt an invisible pull. His note disappeared under his pen, and another took its place.

_Cedric, thank you. The borders are more secure than they've been in four years. I know it must have cost you to share your secrets, but I am so grateful. Amber would be too. James is injured now, and I must go see what I can do to help the good fairies with their healing – I'm afraid I'm terrible at that sort of magic. I wish I could talk to you again, Cedric. You always made me think through problems better. - Sofia_

Well, he was still alive, so apparently no one decided to execute him for possession of forbidden magical knowledge.

**Sofia, there are spells of restoration in Compendia Cafudicius, perhaps that would help James**

_Thank you again! I managed to save the vision in one of his eyes. James of course wants to back out into battle. The Wylde Elves in the North are threatening the last of the wheat fields, and if we want to avoid a famine we will have to take a stand. Do you know that Baileywick is an excellent swordsman? He's taught me so much. But not as much as you. –Sofia_

Back and forth, note after note, he wrote to Sofia until his hand began to cramp. He ignored the odd sensations on his skin, wet then cold then dry over and over again. He chose not to contemplate why his robe constantly shifted around him, or why he was wearing nothing **but** the voluminous robe. He instead focused on writing down every spell he could think of for barriers, reinforced weapons, night vision, healing magical wounds. His memory was taxed, but he knew that they time he would waste looking in his books would be better spent writing to Sofia. Sweet, funny, Sofia who teased him in her notes and made him feel like he was helping, even though he was trapped in a prison more effective than any dungeon ever built. Sometimes, he could almost see her standing in front of him, a glimpse of her face as she sat before him for what must have been hours to her and a quarter-second for him. He knew that she slept in the blankets by the bookshelf, and he found himself staring there far too often, trying to get another look at her face, her form. It had only been half an hour for him, and yet it was another two years for Sofia.

Then, another breakthrough.

_Today is my twenty first birthday, Cedric. And to celebrate I'm going to try another shot in the dark. That torn copy of Tempus Aurorae has enough of several pages intact that I will try and recreate them tonight. I don't think it will be enough, but it will speed you some more. Worth the risk, I think. I want to see you do magic again, Cedric. __I want to hold__ - Sofia_

Cedric stared the note and worried. What had she struck out? She wanted to hold what? And what on earth was she planning to do? How dangerous would it be?

A burning sensation began to creep over his skin and he looked down at his arm, noting that the bare skin there seemed to glow softly. The burn worked its way inward, as though he was being broiled alive, and with a shout he was consumed in pain that vanished in the next moment. He panted to catch his breath, and he opened his eyes to find himself slumped on the floor, and across from him, a woman who must be Sofia lay on the ground mere inches away. Her eyes were closed, her full pink lips parted to let past impossibly fast breaths. He was still running slow, but he couldn't help but take a moment for his eyes to sweep over the breathtaking woman who was nearly in his arms. High cheekbones, one marred by a thick white scar. Deep auburn hair caught up in an efficient braid, tendrils of which escaped to tease around small, shell like ears. Long, graceful arms contoured with wiry muscle that showed this was no idle royal – she worked hard and every day. Full breasts squeezed tight into a leather jerkin, tight faded leather trousers that had the tears and holes in them from heavy use on the field of battle.

She was absolutely beautiful, and he could feel his body react to her presence. It wasn't every day Cedric was in such close proximity to a woman this lovely, and then to have it someone he knew actually wanted to be near him…she'd made her crush on him very evident as she got older. It had begun to be a challenge to ignore her growing beauty as she strove to impress him when she was his apprentice. Now, she had likely surpassed his magical skill and she had a form and features that would make man contemplate the pleasures of the flesh. And Cedric had a considerable imagination.

Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up so fast it made his head spin. He too sat up, but she was already dashing about the room so fast as to like a ghostly image behind her. She gave a little dance and smiled at him with eyes that startlingly pale blue, but it was over in perhaps a second, after which she darted over to the bookcase and rifled through one of the tomes so fast it made him fear for the integrity of the book. He called out to her, "Sofia, be careful!" At the first syllable she turned to him, brow furrowed for the briefest instant, then she put the book away and launched herself lightning-quick to the his writing table, jotting down a note in less than a second while he watched. She was bent over and he could see down the cleavage of her vest, and that did nothing for his state of embarrassing arousal. He snapped his eyes shut, and when he opened them she stood before him, a note in her hand held up before his eyes.

"_You seem much faster now. You can even see me! But I can't understand what you are saying, and I'd probably sound like a mouse to you. But this is the best birthday present ever!"_

Her arm lowered just as he finished reading, and as he looked into her face she was leaning toward him, quick as a wink, and pressed her lips against his. He stood in shock, restraining himself from clutching her to him and deepening the kiss. But he need not bother. She was already gone, running out of the room with her inhuman speed.

He grumbled under his breath, and before he could move toward the writing table to resume their odd correspondence and tell her not to waste her time on old wizards, Wormwood flew past like a black bolt of lightning and settled on his shoulder. The weight of the bird felt comforting, and he could only be grateful his bird was a magical familiar, capable of living a long life. He could not hear the bird's grumpy cackle, only a piping whistle like a teakettle near his ear. But it was something, a reminder that he was no longer so alone in his prison of time. He only hoped that Sofia returned to him soon.

He ran to the bookshelf once again and pulled down a few titles to take with him to sit at his desk. His stomach grumbled ominously, and he worried how on earth he was going to be able to eat or use the chamber pot, or risk sleep if it meant years of those around him would disappear in his dreams.

He flipped through two volumes where every spell that might be of interest was marked with the soft pencil scratches of his grown-up apprentice – much to his annoyance. He would have her erase every one of them, even if his fingers lingered over a page, caressing those marks without him even knowing it. But the third book, one of his best potion books, help no such marks. Potion making was a tricky business, and one Sofia had often shied away from. She was not fond of explosions of green goo or black fire, and all too often that was the result when she went near a cauldron. But it was a field Cedric excelled in, as he had one proven with a successful potion of invisibility. He glanced to the shelf and saw that vial was gone – no doubt made use of in some aspect of the ongoing war.

As he read he was distracted when a note appeared in front of him once again.

_What are you doing, Mr. Cedric?_

He looked up at her to see her standing there with a smile before she disappeared once again. How long had she stood there still enough so that he would see her grin? He glanced out the window and could see the sun moving across the sky, much more slowly than a few minutes ago, but still the sun rose and set in little more than a minute, the light still shifting constantly, but not enough to give him a headache anymore. He reached for his pen and added to her note.

**Mr. Cedric? Have you regained some renewed sense of propriety, Princess? I haven't been your teacher in years, and you are a woman now – almost my own age. Call me Rick – at least you can pronounce that correctly. And I shall hear your voice again soon, I hope. In Alchemica Totalus, there is a potion to return something**

The note was snatched away from him and the book torn away from his desk. In another moment, there was another note.

_Rick? Oddly, it fits you better than Cedric ever has. Perhaps that's why I mispronounced your name for the first 4 years I knew you. Can I really do this potion, Rick? I've had to learn to be more accurate with my potion work – otherwise we'd never have gotten the frost pixies out of the palace, but this would take a master. It's very delicate and if something goes wrong, __I'm not sure I could continue on without _

The note was unfinished, and there was no sign of Sofia. Cedric reached for another piece of paper, ready to reassure her that she could do this, when he felt the weight of her land on his legs, her arms clutch around his neck. By the time he pulled his arms around her to hold her against his body, his collar was wet with her tears and she was sleeping against his shoulder. It was mere moments in time, she woke all too soon and disappeared, but he knew something horrible had happened. He also knew that he wanted to hold her a hell of a lot longer than seconds.

_Mom and Dad were attacked on the way back from a peace conference in Wei-Ling. They were both killed. The funeral was today. James' coronation is tomorrow. I'll have to be there as Royal Sorcerer. I don't know if I can do it._

Oh Sofia. Poor girl.

He wrote, ink staining his hands.

**I lost my parents to a magical explosion when I was eighteen. Became Royal Sorcerer a week later, since I was an only child and sorcerers are rare. It was so hard to live up to the expectations. You are far better qualified than I ever was, my sweet girl. -Your Rick**

He was about to try and scratch out the ending, his words seemed insane. But he was very much hers. It had been just an hour since he'd cast a spell at Mab, but he'd fallen in love with the woman he'd seen in quick glimpses and a dozen short letters. This is the first letter he'd finished before she snatched it out of his hands. He waited one minute, two…three minutes, watching the sun rise and set several times out the window. There was no sign of his Sofia. He stood and ran to the window, looking out on the land of Enchancia to see a land changed. No pleasure gardens and green rolling hills. No tidy village and flying carriages in the sky. There was a fortress wall build of reinforced timbers surrounding the village and the castle. The land was grey, the skies forbidding. Animals grazed listlessly on short grass, one eye looking toward the sky. There was a glimmering shadow over the castle and part of the village that he could see was a bubble shield, but it would have taken an immense amount of energy to cover all of Enchancia with that level of protection. There was a brief pressure on his shoulder, and a blur of someone moving around him and then once again that feeling of wetness – much more pronounced, and a shift in his robe – which was suddenly blue instead of black. Not his robe then. Had he been washed? Who was…

Sofia appeared in front of him, standing very still with a quickly fading blush on her cheeks. Oh gods, she'd been the one washing him. This entire time? How any times had she inspected him nose to toes. The thought of it was disconcerting and arousing all at once. He felt violated and cared for all at the same time.

Sofia disappeared, but there was a note shoved in his hand.

_Sorry I was gone so long. There was a mission to find the assassins. No luck. I'm not sure how much time I will have for your potion, but I will try. –Sofia_

He ran back to his table, finding a goblet of water and a plate of almonds and dried fruit when he arrived. Wormwood perched on the table, eyes on the plate – apparently guarding it from marauding woodland creatures that might steal the nibbles before Cedric could manage to eat. He took a swig of water, grimacing at the dusty, stale taste of the stuff. Stuffing a handful of nuts in his mouth, he chewed as he wrote.

**I have every confidence you can brew the Retournius potion. It will take more than a year to brew. I think that is approximately six hours to me. I can help keep an eye on it if you can create a small everlasting flame to serve as the heat source. –Rick**

He smirked down at the note for a moment before it disappeared. How is it she had managed to rename him and claim his entire imagination in less than an hour? How was he going to spend the next six hours waiting and watching a potion, when the world outside that window was falling apart? He needed to be there for King…King James. He needed to be there for Sofia.

He shoved the rest of the almonds and the fruit in his mouth, and swallowed the water. Then he rushed over to his potions lab, pleased to see a small blue flame under his best copper cauldron. The potion within was a horrid shade of chartreuse, and he sighed as he pointed a finger at the ingredients rack, straight at the dried rosemary. The potion immediately turned a dark forest green, and he nodded in approval. He perched on the edge of the table, settling in to wait and counting the passing sun rises, calculating when the potion would need to change colors. Time passed achingly slowly for him as he could see dust gather on his knee, then disappear as he once again felt the combination of wet-cold-slither, as the blue robe became a black one again and he knew that Sofia had once again cleaned him and dressed him – seen his body when he'd been almost turned to stone.

His mind wandered, caught up in indecent daydreams involving running a wet piece of cloth along the strong thighs he imagined under those provocative leather trousers he'd glimpsed on her. He'd been up for almost a full day before Mab had arrived, scrambling with the rest of the castle staff to find Princess Sofia after she'd left a note about following Miss Nettle suspecting she was up to no good. He'd found Sofia and closed the Gate, then been plunged into this mad world of unstuck time. He was beyond tired. But he could find the strength to stay awake, terrified how much he would lose if he fell asleep.

As the hours passed he traded note after note with Sofia, answering questions about the potion, about the legends of vampires (garlic really was very effective), about how to stop a baby Ogre without killing it (Shrinking spell might work on a baby Ogre, before the hide was too thick, but really Sofia, you are still far too soft. Babies do grow up.) Countless other little queries turned into outright flirting.

_You don't just sit in your workshop and plan ways to steal my amulet, Rick. (Yes, I figured out your obsession by the time I was twelve – but you didn't try very hard. It was cute.) You have actual muscles under that big flowing robe your wore. Whatever did you do for exercise?_

He blushed at that one. No, he hadn't tried to steal the amulet in a long time. Being King Cedric lost its appeal when he thought about how much he would disappoint her.

**Swimming, love. Lots of swimming. Mostly at night. Very relaxing before sleeping. It's good to partake in some vigorous exercise before sleeping.**

He only realized how suggestive that sounded when the note had already disappeared.

_I've never had the chance to try vigorous exercise before sleeping. Do you think you could help me develop a regular exercise program?_

He swallowed thickly, shocked and more than a little aroused by the images that brought to mind. Swimming in the castle lake in the thick darkness, long golden limbs wrapped around his thighs as they floated in the warm darkness. Nails digging into his shoulders as they twisted in the sheet of his bed, the sound of his name on her breath as she fell asleep on his shoulder, utterly sated.

Other times she was sad, missing her family with palpable misery.

_James is limping again, and he refuses to rest. He barely eats anymore, he's so focused on combing the mountains for wylde elves and wyvern. It's harvest time, and there's little enough to go around, but I wonder if I should plan a feast to try to encourage the people and force James to eat. I think that's what Mother would have done. What do you think?_

He felt her press against him then, her arms around his chest seeking comfort. He wrapped her in his arms as fast as he could, holding her against him and feeling the warmth of her body as she rested against him for what must have been hours in her time. When she disappeared from his arms, his heart clenched in misery. He wanted to help her so badly he could taste it. He wanted to be at her side, taking away some of her burdens. He just wanted her.

He stared into the fire for a long minute, resting his forehead against a shelf and tried to push away all his conflicting thoughts about the only remaining princess of Enchancia. Sleep crept up on him suddenly. He shook himself awake, only to find that he was back in his bed, staring at the grey stone ceiling of his chambers, a note held over his head by that confounded wooden arm.

_Don't worry. You need some sleep. I'll manage on my own. I'll miss you, but I'll try and wake you when the potion is completely done._

He wanted to resist, but his body needed the rest. He closed his eyes reluctantly, and dreamed of soft skin and full pink lips and echoes of a childish laugh morphed into the sultry laughter of a woman.

He woke up to the feeling of a think, sticky paste covering more and more of his body. Everywhere on his body. His chest, his hands, then his neck, his face, his back, even in his hair. His toes, legs…oh gods, his hips, his arse, his balls and his embarrassingly hard cock was coated in honey – the main base of the Retournius potion. She'd finished it.

He was nude, covered in a sticky paste that smelled of herbs, honey and lemongrass. He felt like a chicken about to be roasted, or the sacrifice at some ancient fertility rite. Sofia appeared suddenly, as she sat herself down on his stomach, her hands pressed against his gooey chest. She smiled down at him for a second, and his eyes took in the thin chemise and pantaloons that was all that was covering her. His cock jumped, pressing against her bum in a completely inappropriate and uncontrollable way. She closed her eyes and the next second pain flared through him as though he'd been struck by lightning, his body arched up like a bow, throwing his rider to the floor. It was over just as suddenly, and he took in gasping breaths he saw Sofia splayed out on the floor, her chest rising and falling with impossibly rapid breaths. Damn it, still running slow.

He crawled out of bed and shuffled toward where he lay, his eye falling on the window where the moon moved past at a fast pace, but not that fast. It had not finished crossing an twelfth of the sky before he knelt at Sofia's side, so at least he was approaching normal time. She was unconscious, drained magically. He could see no head wound or other injury. She was resting. He was tempted to lie on the floor and curl around her body, holding her in his arms and trying to supplement her magical strength with his own – but he was very very sticky and very very naked, and she was in very very little clothing.

He picked her up as best his could, being very careful not to touch anything he shouldn't – the proof of his trespasses would be quite evident from his sticky handprints on the thin white cloth of her underthings. He set her on the sticky bed, and turned away from her, determined to let her recover in peace.

Pushing past any pain, he ran to the desk where his wand sat, taking it in his hand and walking to the drain inset in the floor near his potions' workshop. Holding his want over his head, he spoke, "Aguamenti lavicus!"

A shower of soapy water spewed out at him, with enough force to almost hurt. Relief at the return of his ability to perform magic made his knees weak. The spray was perfect for washing away the sticky glue covering his form, and he scrubbed at his skin ineffectually with his other hand as the water made somewhat of a dent in the mess in his hair. Several minutes later, he was perhaps halfway toward clean, when another set of hands holding a scrub brush began to help his efforts.

He whipped his head to see Sofia standing behind him, biting her lip and staring at the back of his shoulder, her hands holding the brush against the skin of his back, working quick circles against his skin. She was speaking, but her voice was like the squeaking of a mouse, impossible to understand. He shrugged his shoulders quickly, and she nodded very fast in response. He should stop her touches, stop that brush circling, stop the hand that sank into his hair and scratched at his scalp. But it was too delicious. He was not a good enough man to resist a beautiful woman's touch, not when he had not been touched with affection in years. Not even when he'd known this woman as a precocious child.

Her hands worked over his skin quick and sure – though she must have been moving incredibly slowly, and to her this shower was taking hours. Her strokes were more effective than his own, until the only part of him left coated in honeyed potion was his still hard phallus. Too fast for him to protest, she took the wand from his shaking hand, renewing the spell as she knelt in front of him. He took a step backwards but she followed, her hand cupping him, stroking him before he could try to cover himself. His hand came down to block hers, but she had all the advantages of speed, and she cleaned him with firm strokes to shaft and balls, the water surging against his skin as he whimpered with the pleasure of it.

Then she stood, so quick, still so untouchable for him. She ran from him, rightly so. He turned toward the direction she'd run, and watched perplexed as she flitted from place to place, his bookshelf, his desk, scrambling under his bed, her round little arse in the air. Finally she stood up with her prize, a book apparently. Setting aside the no-doubt forbidden book, then she whipped the honeyed sheets off the bed and replacing them with a new set with far more skill than a princess typically possessed, all at high speed. He started across the room toward her, hands cupped over his cock, trying to press it into quiet submission. She apparently grew sick of waiting for him to move, and pulled out his want to pronounce a spell in that mouse voice that had him levitating off the floor and into the bed.

He sputtered in protest, and tried to sit up, but she had a hand on his chest. She held up the book.

**Amor Vincit**

His brow furrowed. It was one of the more esoteric of his highly illegal stash of dark magic. Not truly dark, but love spells and spells rooted in powerful emotions were still frowned upon by magic users in all this world's kingdoms. He remembered reading the book under his sheets as a teenager, for it was highly suggestive, giving detailed instructions for harnessing the power of pleasure and procreation to work spell of tremendous difficulty. He doubted any of it was true – more likely the wishful thinking of a perverted practitioner. But it also talked of the power of love, true love, and the origins of the strength behind True Love's kiss and other potent sources of restorative magics.

_Please. I can't stand another day – another night, without someone to talk to. I've lost everyone but you. Please, let me try something?_

He wasn't sure what she was planning, but he couldn't deny the plaintive note she'd held in front of him, or countermand the look in her eye – that combination of sad desperation, earnest need, with a spark of mischief that he remembered from her childhood.

He nodded, wondering if he was dooming himself, if soldiers would crash through his door with swords out and cut him to ribbons for lying naked in a room near the princess of the realm.

She pulled off her clothes, leaving her completely naked in a blink of an eye, long before he could think to raise a protest. Once again, she climbed on top of him before he could move, the weight of her across his hips this time, his cock trapped against her stomach. He suddenly knew what she meant to do – no simple kiss this. He wanted to protest. He truly did, but then she slid down him far far too quickly, and the heat and tightness of her wrapped around his cock was heaven.

Magic pulsed in a wave that encompassed them both, a blue-white haze that shivered over his skin and hers. The amulet she still wore glowed a brilliant purple. Warmth grew in his chest, emotions bubbling through him – love and desire, longing and loneliness, determination and then pain. He clutched at her hips.

"I hurt you!" he moaned, regret filling his voice.

She slumped forward, unknowingly letting him slide within her. He sucked in a breath, trying not to come on the spot while he wrapped is arms around her. He felt a tear fall on to his shoulder and sorrow filled him, regret that she would have hurt herself for an idiot such as him. "You shouldn't have done this, Sofia. I'm not worth such a price."

She pressed a kiss against the skin of his shoulder. "It's worth it just to hear your voice again, Cedric. And I knew it would work. I knew it."

Her voice was soft and surprisingly deep – the voice of a woman. His cock throbbed and twitched inside of her and she whimpered. He ran a hand along the naked expanse of her back, trying to comfort her. "You silly girl. You didn't prepare yourself, didn't read all of that book, did you? Didn't know to give yourself pleasure before you tried this?"

She lifted herself up on her arms, her skin stained pink with a becoming blush, her tear-filled blue eyes finally meeting his as she hovered above him. "I read it. But I was in a rush. I wanted you back, tonight. No more waiting."

He moved one hand between them, searching out the little button of flesh that book spoke of with such thoroughness. "Your virginity would not be enough of a sacrifice for that that spell, Sofia." He circled his finger over her and she moaned softly, rocking slightly and driving him mad as the tight heat of her grew slick. "There had to be real emotion behind that. Real love. True love."

"Yes!" she hissed, rocking her hips harder into his touches. Her breasts bounced softly and he stared at them for a long moment, watching their sway to distract himself from his aching cock, which demanded he thrust and thrust and take what he wanted. He captured a nipple in his mouth, pulling at it in time as he stroked the hard bud at the top of her sex. She shivered over him, her every movement a torture to his aching cock.

He couldn't look in her face as he spoke, the words pulled from deep within him.

"As a child you were determined and sweet. At fifteen you were clever and going to be beautiful. I was half in love with you then, and fighting against it so hard my teeth never unclenched with the effort. Now you are a woman, in less than a day for me. And I can't fight it anymore. I love you, Sofia."

She cried out, the walls of her sheath fluttering around him as she found her pleasure. He growled, shocking himself, and somehow he managed to turn them around, hovering over her as she stared up at him, eyes wide and soft, still caught up in the pleasure he'd given her. "I don't know what I'm doing Sofia. Just learning from books. But I want to give you everything. All of me." He pushed forward, thrusting inside of her deep until their hips met. He grit his teeth and pulled back almost all the way, trying to stay slow. She wrapped her legs around him, her feet at the small of his back and she pulled.

"I've had enough of slow from you, Rick. Fast. Please!"

He let go, pounding into her and feeling ridiculously smug as she squealed in his ear, her hands curling into his hair and pulling. He was amazed that he'd lasted this long, that he hadn't exploded at the heat and wet and tightness of her grip around his cock, but he kept on, pleasure spiraling higher and higher. Sofia was making the most delicious moans underneath him, and his eyes flitted over her body, watching the blush on her chest, the scar on her cheek, the countless scrapes and burns and callouses that made her into the woman she was. He would learn every inch of her. He wanted every story, good and bad, from the years he'd lost. He wanted her.

His balls tightened, and white sparks started to flicker in his eyes. She was writhing beneath him, desperately searching, throwing her hips toward his to seek what she needed. He reached between them again, flicking trembling fingers against her nub. His hips stuttered, losing their rhythm. Her legs gripped him higher up his back, and the new angle made her give a bright scream of pleasure, her walls sucking at him, preventing him from pulling away as he lost control, his orgasm spiking through him with fireworks that no magical display could ever match. He groaned as his seed pumped from him into her and she whimpered with it, her walls continuing to flutter and squeeze him sending shocks of almost unbearable pleasure through him.

Not wanting to crush he, he managed to turn them to the side as he collapsed. They were both gasping for breath as he looked into her face, her eyes shining at him with a strange mixture of smug accomplishment, embarrassment and hope.

"Thank you, Sofia. For such a gift." He swallowed thickly, "It should have been your husband's." Hot anger seared through him at the thought of any other man touching her, loving her.

Her eyes narrowed, then she laughed nervously. "Well, it still could be. A bit early maybe, but…" she trailed off, her voice grown quiet.

"You would marry me? A silly, inept court wizard?"

"You are not inept. You are brilliant. You just need confidence! And yes, you idiot. I will marry you."

He grinned stupidly, then blinked. He ran a hand over her stomach. He summoned his wand, swirling it over her stomach and watched as a red light glowed for a moment. He relaxed. "No baby…not the right time."

"Why do you think I was so certain I wanted this to happen tonight?" she said with a laugh in her voice.

"I love you, you clever girl." He kissed her softly, gently, groaning when her internal muscles clenched around his already hardening cock. He should stop, should let her rest, but her hands threaded into his hair again, pulling at his scalp, and he was lost in her arms. He wanted to be nowhere else for his lifetime.

When Princess Sofia married the newly awakened Court Sorcerer, Cedric, it was a scandal. King James threatened to lock Cedric in the dungeons, but the fight with the Wylde Elves had escalated, and they needed a man of Cedric's strengths. The family breach was healed, and on his deathbed two years later, James names Sofia and her child his heirs. Queen Sofia the Brave and her consort Cedric the Wise ruled Enchancia and brought an end to the Third Fae War. Their line began the dynasty of Sorcerer Kings and Queens that rule Enchancia even today. We owe our Golden Age to their determination and bravery in the face of extraordinary odds. Love does conquer all.

More author's notes:

I have no defense, other than to plead insanity. Cedric seems pretty young overall, despite the white streak in his hair. (My husband has the same white streak, and has since he was a teen). Sofia isn't really flirting with him, but she seems very protective and possessive of Cedric, especially when other women are around. She knows what she wants! By the time of the lurid events of this fic, Sofia is the ripe old age of 24, and Cedric has been held in stasis at 26.


End file.
